CHAPTER 2: Saved
A/N: GUESS WHAT!? I'm back! I know, I know, you're probably wondering what the heck was going on with me, but it's a VERY long story. So I'll be making a video explaining everything and posting it on YouTube sometime in the future. And to make up for those three months of absence, I'm giving you three chapters of this story! Neato, eh? Having said that shebang, let's get started!
The clock in our living room and Old City Hall's obnoxious bells chimed 4:00 in the afternoon. My mother came rushing to me, her shawl in one leaf.
"Jesus, Talisa! You're late for ―" she shrieked, before I cut her off.
"I know, mom." I replied as I took the shawl and draped it round my head.
"Stay safe, Talisa-Faith. Don't talk to strangers, go straight to St. Michael's, and don't ―" my mother began to remind me, but I ended up finishing her sentence.
"I know, I know ― don't stray off your path."
Had I been younger, I would have responded with a very cheeky "But there ain't no path in the big city!" But I wasn't, so I didn't, so that ends that discussion. My mom kissed my forehead, asked that God watch over me, and I was out the door and down the street. As I neared a corner, I saw a figure cloaked in black following me. All I could see of it was a pair of glowing amber eyes . . .
Like the shadows in my dream . . .
I almost had a nervous breakdown as I waited quite impatiently to cross the road, willing myself not to have an aneurism in the middle of the road. At last, at long, long last, the light had finally changed. I looked around to see if the figure was still there, but to my immense confusion, the figure had disappeared.
I had arrived at St. Michael's hospital within the next 10 minutes. As soon as I checked myself in, got a bracelet, and headed to the sixth floor, I was greeted by my psychiatrist, Dr. Veisse.
"Hello, Talisa." she greeted me softly.
I went into her office, closed the door behind me, and sat down.
I walked out of the hospital two hours later, and again, I saw that shadow with the flowing eyes. As soon they had realized that I was watching them, they turned and slunk out of sight. I had the urge to follow it, but I though better of it and went straight home. As soon as I had walked through the door, my mother was all over me.
"How did it go?" she asked as I unwrapped the shawl.
"Good, mom." I responded.
"Made me wanna sleep, but good." my mom smiled, and let me lie down on the couch. I closed my eyes and slowly shifted into my strangely shadow-free and peaceful dreams.
I was awoken by the bells of City Hall at six o'clock. My ears rang, buzzed and ached as the very ground beneath me shook and trembled. I tried to go right back to sleep, but hey ― if you're woken up by clock bells high up in a tower, it's about as was to go back to sleep as it would be to jump off the CN Tower and be in one piece. Which is to say, nearly impossible. So, I sat up, rubbed the last particles of sleep out of my eyes and decided to take a walk. As soon as I had stood up to of tell my mother that I was going for a stroll around the block, the heavy weight of dread was dropped onto my shoulders once more, except this time, it felt even heavier than before. Thinking that it was a lack of sleep, I shrugged it off and went up to my mother's room. I knocked on the door and waited for the distracted "Come in."
As soon as my mother had given me permission to come in, I was through that door and beside my mother, who was writing in a leather bound journal industriously and diligently.
"Hi mom. What's up?" I asked.
My mother laughed as she marked her place in the diary and turned to face me.
"When will you kids stop saying that?"
I just grinned and hugged her.
"Mom, is it okay if I go out for a walk?" I asked.
"Uhh . . . no problem. Just be back by eight o'clock. And STAY SAFE. Please. I don't know what I'd do if . . ."
My mother trailed off and hugged me tightly.
"May God watch over you, Talisa-Faith."
O-kay.
This kind of emotional ritual precedes pretty much any outing I go on. You might think that my mom is mad. I kinda don't blame ya, but, well . . . the streets out here in Toronto are very dangerous. All these plants around my age and younger are disappearing left, right, and centre. The zombies are mostly responsible for this. They weren't exactly a problem in the decades before ― on a good week, the zombies attacked only once. But now . . . they're pretty much attacking every other day. In other words, a slough of groans behind you meant that you had to simply turn around and FIGHT. Walking the other way, sprinting onto a streetcar, or dashing across the street was not an option. You gotta fight in these dark times. A weak plant is a dead plant. So . . . that's pretty much why my mom wants to keep me safe. I'm all she has, after all.
I walked down Queen Street, my knife in my bag. I looked over my shoulder every few seconds to make sure that no zombies were behind me. A few minutes later though, I saw a crowd of them as I went along Dundas. I took out my knife and slashed them to ribbons, while I shot peas and insults. The plants and the occasional human glanced at me, shrugged, and kept on going. That's concrete proof that plant-zombie and human-zombie combat is not something to gawk and gape at. It's common. Fighting on streetcars, roofs and in the middle of the road has weaseled its way into Toronto's culture.
I don't know how it happened. All I know is that one second, I'm in Nathan Phillips square, next, I'm on Victoria, walking past an abandoned, dilapidated factory. I saw a shadow flit by me. It looked a me and blinked those burning eyes once, twice. Then it flitted out of sight. I shivered violently, despite the fact that I was Snow Pea and therefore immune to the cold. I looked up at the clock in the nearby church.
7:35.
Oh, shit . . . I thought in alarm as the sky grew darker and darker.
Then suddenly, the lights went out.
I saw that shadow again as it twisted itself around me and started choking me. I tried screaming for help, but my voice wouldn't come. I whipped out my knife and tried to slice at the shadow. It howled as it split momentarily, then became one shadow again. Then, the shadow conjured a knife with a blade that was paper thin and razor sharp. We then engaged in a vicious swordfight right then and there. I got a few nicks in my face that bled lightly, but that didn't stop me from fighting for my life. Next thing I knew, I was cornered. The shadow's eyes burned unto mine as he prepared to slice my neck, when a strong leaf punched the shadow away. The shadow twisted and howled as he grabbed his knife and made off, becoming one with the night once more. In his place, I saw a Repeater staring back at me, my knife in hi leaf.
"I believe this is yours, girl." he whispered as he handed me my knife.
"Thank you." I said real quietly with a smile. Then we stared at each other a bit more.
"So . . . what's your name?" the stranger asked.
"Talisa." I replied.
"Nice to meet you Lacy. I'm Pete." the plant responded.
"Thanks for saving me, Pete. I-I'm sorry . . ." I stammered.
"Don't thank me or be sorry. Just be careful." Pete said sharply.
I reeled as if my mother had slapped me. By this time, the streetlights had come back on. I stepped away from one of the pools of light.
"Sorry, Lacy. I just don't want a girl like you getting killed." he apologized as he held his leaf out to me. I cringed, not knowing what to expect. Finally, I let him wrap his arm around my shoulders and guide me home.
I was at the front door of my house by 7:50 PM.
"Thank — " But Pete did not give me a chance to continue. Instead, he extended his right leaf. I saw a tattoo of an eagle bearing a dagger with four diamonds on the handle.
He took my leaf, hugged me tightly, and was on his way. I shrugged, unlocked my front door, and forgot the hug as my mother embraced me so tightly that I was sure that I was going to stop breathing.
"OhmygoshTalisa-FaithIwassoworriedGodreallywaslookingoutforyouIheardtherewasafightyou'remyonlydaughterI'ddieifIlostyouIloveyousomuchTalisa!" she gushed.
"Mom, I'm alive. The walk was interesting though!" I replied.
My mother released me, then almost had a panic attack when she saw my cuts and that my mouth was trickling blood.
"Talisa! Oh Lord Jesus, I will knock the living shit out of the ass-shitty, bitchy bastard that even dreamt about hurting my daughter!"
I was about to say that I was just fine when my mother dragged me out the door and onto the street.
